The Liverpool manager started to get just a little irritated in the press conference. His team had been beaten, which was bad enough. But worse, the questions were starting to broaden out from being specific on to the match itself to more general concerns. There was talk now about his team breaking up, of an era coming to an end. When it turns, it turns quickly.
No, not Arne Slot in Anfield during the week. This was actually Jurgen Klopp a little over two years ago. He had just seen his Liverpool side lose 3-0 away to Brighton, during which he had made a quadruple substitution in the second half. Off came Jordan Henderson (32), Joel Matip (31), Fabinho and Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain (both 29).
And so the press wanted to know if this was a declaration of the beginning of the end, a symbolic lowering of the flag belonging to the team that had ended Liverpool’s long wait for the title. “It’s our fault you can ask this question,” Klopp replied, dolefully. “I understand it. But the changes have nothing to do with that.”
Maybe not in the moment. But spin the tape on two years and none of those four is still at the club. Neither is Klopp, come to that. Liverpool’s midfield was pulled hither and yon that afternoon by Alexis Mac Allister, soon to be a Liverpool mainstay. Up front, Cody Gakpo looked a bit overwhelmed on his Liverpool debut. On the same weekend, Arne Slot’s Feyenoord beat Groningen 3-0 to go four points clear in the Eredivisie, on their way to the club’s first league title in seven years.
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The carousel keeps spinning, always. Sport refreshes itself whether you’re ready or not, like an update on your phone. Liverpool fans fretting about the end of an era in January 2023 would have laughed you out of the room for suggesting that in March 2025, they’d be 15 points clear at the top of the Premier League despite having lost Klopp along the way. Yet here they are, champions elect and we haven’t even hit Paddy’s Day.
In fact, so complete has the rebuild been that they’re already at the next stage in the cycle – fretting about another end of another era. All it took was an exit on penalties to PSG and all the low murmuring of the past few months got amplified. The background hum of contract talks around Mo Salah, Virgil van Dijk and Trent Alexander-Arnold suddenly felt louder and more tangled. Andy Robertson turned 31 on Tuesday. Even more worryingly, Darwin Nunez is only 25.
Nobody lives in the now when it comes to sport. Liverpool have been the best team in England all year and are about to breeze to their second title in five seasons after going 30 years without one. And yet all the talk since Tuesday night has been dark and stormy, as though they’re about to head into a deep recession.
There’s been a bit of that around the Irish rugby team since last weekend too. On Saturday morning, Ireland were odds-on favourites to become the first country ever to win three Six Nations in a row. The Aviva was about to give a fond send-off to Peter O’Mahony, Cian Healy and Conor Murray, pillars of the greatest era Irish rugby has ever known. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky come kick-off.
By teatime, everything had changed. One defeat to France and suddenly Ireland were done, over, gonzo. An ageing team with their best days behind them. You couldn’t move for people listing off the number of key Ireland players who are over 30. Injuries to Mack Hansen and James Lowe combined to shine one of those UV lights on Ireland’s wing options – and the results made you want to smash every UV light this side of Vegas.
It all seems a little previous, no? The Six Nations isn’t even over – Ireland might even still win the bloody thing. Unlikely, granted, but not impossible. And even if they end up coming second or third, they’ve still won a third Triple Crown in four seasons – and they’ve done it despite injuries at various junctures to Lowe, Hansen, Caelan Doris, Tadhg Furlong, Joe McCarthy and Ronan Kelleher, as well as a suspension to Garry Ringrose.
Throw in a 21-year-old outhalf finding his feet in his first Six Nations and maybe the campaign hasn’t been so bad. If losing to France is the marker of an era’s end, then Irish rugby will spend its whole life dreaming it all up anew. Ireland got their clock cleaned by a world-class outfit last Saturday but that’s all that happened. Fretting for the future feels like a rash overreaction.
This is sport, so of course it’s silly to expect a bit of rational thought around these things. But even so, this mad dash to declare The End is a strange reflex. One of the great pleasures of sport is that it forces you to be present, to live in the now of the performance you are witnessing. And yet the way so many people talk about sport, it’s as if they’re trying to outdo each other to be the first to say it’s over.
But sport is never over. That’s the greatest thing it has going for it. You never stand in the same river twice. There is always next season and new players and another coach. There will come a time when Liverpool don’t have Salah, Van Dijk or Trent in their ranks – and maybe that time is coming at rapid speed. But they will still win the league without them. Maybe next season, maybe not. But it will happen.
And the Ireland rugby team will win the Six Nations again. They’ll win it again pretty soon, most likely. The under-20s have been pretty rank this time around but before last season, Ireland had won three grand slams in five years at that level. More players will come through, more titles will follow.
Eras don’t end, they just bleed into each other. The trick is to enjoy them when they’re happening. If you don’t, you just might find yourself 15 points clear and worrying about next season. Or in with a shout of winning a Six Nations but agonising over who will be the Ireland wingers in 2½ years.
Seems like an awful waste of energy.
